


darling (your smile is as warm as sunshine)

by sunniskies



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bucky is not the California type, Farmer's Market, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Meet-Cute, Parent Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers is too pure for this world, californians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:35:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunniskies/pseuds/sunniskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes dislikes California and all things associated with it on principle. Too much sun, people are too happy, too much kale. </p>
<p>Steve Rogers embodies all the things Bucky hates about California. But hate probably isn't the right word to describe how Bucky feels about him.   </p>
<p>Or, a Stucky Farmer's Market AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	darling (your smile is as warm as sunshine)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [ this post ](http://tofixtheshadows.tumblr.com/post/120564850331).

Bucky has no idea how he ended up in California.

Well, that’s not entirely correct. He knows _why_ he’s in California, but he just can’t believe it. How does a former sergeant who hates flip flops, sand, and warm weather in general end up in California? And to add further insult to injury, he lives in Los Angeles of all places.

He should really move to Seattle, he muses to himself as he drives down a street flanked with tall palm trees. Or Chicago, or anywhere it’s cold and gray and people don’t perpetually dress like they’re headed to yoga class. Somewhere where the waiters in every restaurant aren’t drop dead gorgeous and all aspiring actors. Not that he minds that part so much.

He knows he should just accept it. He’s been here for over 6 months now and it doesn’t look like he’s leaving anytime soon. His late parents had bequeathed their vacation condo nestled in the heart of Santa Monica to him and it is the only place he can afford to live on his savings until he finds a full-time job. It’s not that he’s not skilled. His military background is impressive and he knows he’d be an easy candidate for many positions. It’s more that he just isn’t sure exactly what it is he wants to do with his life. He thought it would only take a few weeks of relaxation and pondering to figure it out, but weeks quickly turned into months and he’s no closer to finding anything that makes him feel, well...happy.

Perpetual sunshine aside, there is one aspect of living in Southern California that Bucky truly enjoys--fresh produce. He’s made a habit out of venturing to one of LA’s endless array of farmer’s markets every weekend, quickly losing himself in the bright colors of tables laden with fruit, the smell of freshly baked bread permeating the air. Cooking has always been something he liked, so now he spends most of his free afternoons trying out new recipes. Something about dicing onions into perfect squares or the sizzle of oil on a hot pan relaxes him and quiets the question usually reverberating in his head: _what are you doing with your life?_

This Sunday he’s headed to the farmer’s market in Pasadena. It’s supposed to be one of the better ones, and he’s been meaning to check it out for months. As he pulls up to the parking lot he sees the expected rows of white tents and assortment of people strolling between them. He quickly sweeps his shoulder length chestnut brown hair into a messy bun, grabs his canvas tote bag from the trunk, and ambles over to join the melee.

He’s greeted with the familiar mix of market-goers. Families with toddlers tucked into top-of-the-line strollers, college students in Ray Bans and sandals, couples with their fingers intertwined wearing matching workout gear. And then the singles like him, chatting with market vendors or quietly perusing through the selections.

Bucky heads straight toward a stand with tables packed with fresh produce. And _ah_  this is the part he loves, the vibrant greens of broccoli and spinach, the deep purple of eggplants two times larger than you’d find in the grocery store, and the plump red tomatoes that would be perfect for a caprese salad. This makes sense, this is his happy place.

He picks through a box of avocados, testing their ripeness with gentle squeezes. He thinks he’ll make homemade guacamole tonight, maybe with a chopped salad and chicken enchiladas. He starts making a mental grocery list and gathering ingredients, until both his arms are laden with avocados, lettuce, tomatoes, corn, onions and lemons. As he approaches the vendor to pay he realizes he was a little overzealous in his shopping, because now he has no way to reach a hand into his pocket for his wallet. He stands dumbly in front of the vendor for a minute, searching for a free spot he can dump his produce.

“Need a hand?” chuckles a warm voice to his left and Bucky jumps, almost dropping everything.

He turns around and _oh_. The most stunning man he’s ever seen in his life is grinning at him. He’s got honey blond hair, striking bright blue eyes and ridiculously broad, toned shoulders. A well-groomed beard frames his impressive jawline, and even his teeth are perfectly straight and white. Bucky glances down and sees the guy’s wearing a t-shirt with a cartoon drawing of a smiling green bean on it that says “Just a Human Bean”. It’s probably the dorkiest shirt Bucky have ever seen and it’s also quite possible Bucky is in love.

He snaps his attention back to the present. “Uh, sure,” he answers, and the greek god of a man is already collecting Bucky’s produce from him, still with a friendly smile on his face.

“I promise not to steal anything,” the man jokes. His voice is deep but comforting. “Although looks like you grabbed the best avocados. I’m Steve, by the way” 

“Um, I’m Bucky” Bucky mutters distractedly as he digs out his wallet and hands a few bills to the vendor. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve turns to gaze toward the fruit section, like he’s looking for something.

“Thanks a bunch,” Bucky says once he’s paid and successfully dumped all the vegetables into his bag. “Guess I’ll need to scale back on my love of avocados next time.”

Steve tips back his head and laughs heartily, like Bucky told the funniest joke he’s ever heard. He’s about to respond when a high-pitched voice interrupts them.

“Daddy I found two plums just like you asked!” exclaims a little girl, tugging on Steve’s jeans. She’s got an adorable mess of honey blond curls pushed back with two pink bows and shining aqua blue eyes just like Steve’s.

Steve swoops down and scoops the girl up to rest on his hip.  “Good job, bug!” he beams at her and presses a smacking kiss to her chubby cheek. “I knew you could do it.” 

The girl looks incredibly pleased with herself and hugs the plums to her chest. “Who’re you?” she frowns, once she spots Bucky standing awkwardly in front of them.

Steve goes a little pink in his cheeks and Bucky didn’t think this man could get any more adorable, but apparently he can. _Get a grip,_  he admonishes himself. Steve is clearly married and no doubt has a drop-dead gorgeous wife waiting for him back in their white-picket fence home. Bucky would hate him if he weren’t so beautiful.

“Is that how we introduce ourselves, honey?” Steve gently scolds the girl on his hip. “Try again.”

“‘m sorry,” she apologizes, blue eyes going huge as she looks up at Bucky. “My name is Emilia Rogers and I’m 5. But everyone calls me Emmie.” She sticks out a tiny hand formally and Bucky can’t help but break into a smile.

“Hi Emmie,” he says, shaking her hand seriously. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes but everyone calls me Bucky.”

“That’s a silly nickname” Emmie giggles, looking up at Steve for confirmation. “Isn’t it, daddy?”

“It’s a little silly” Steve grins, looking straight at Bucky. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, Bucky notices. Bucky kind of never wants Steve to stop smiling. “But it’s ok to be silly.” 

Emmie crooks her head and looks curiously between Bucky and Steve. They’re both still gazing at each other, Steve’s lips turned up in a slight smile. 

“Do you want to come to our pig-nick?” Emmie interjects.

Steve laughs that full belly laugh again. “It’s picnic, bug.” Then he seems to realizes what she said. “Sorry,” he apologizes to Bucky, looking thoroughly embarrassed. “You don’t have to come, she just likes talking to everyone, I’m sure you have other things to do, we were just going to the park across the way to have--”

“I’d love to,” Bucky interrupts Steve’s rambling. Steve’s eyes widen and Emmie cheers loudly.

 “Are you sure, really? Don’t feel obligated,” Steve wavers.

“Nah, it sounds great,” he assures, and means it. “I love picnics,” he leans in to tell Emmie in a faux-whisper.

Emmie reaches up and hugs Bucky briefly around the neck. “You’re my new friend,” she says happily, and Bucky is overwhelmed with a rush of affection.

 “She’s a charmer,” Steve rolls his eyes to Bucky, but obvious fondness softens his face.

 “Runs in the family,” Bucky observes, unable to stop himself. Steve blushes red again and Bucky’s stomach does a little somersault with the knowledge that he caused it.

 Steve clears his throat and bends to set Emmie on her feet. “Well I guess we have some supplies to get,” he announces, straightening up. “Ready team?”

 “Ready,” Emmie and Bucky declare in unison. Before Bucky knows what’s happening, Emmie grabs his hand with her tiny one and tugs him toward the stand across the way. “We need bread!” she explains urgently, “c’mon!”

 Bucky glances back at Steve, who’s trailing them a few steps behind. He isn’t sure how Steve feels about his daughter holding hands with a perfect stranger. Steve just smiles at him.“We need bread,” he shrugs.  


* * * *

 

An hour later, Bucky is sitting cross-legged on a checkered blanket munching on a slice of baguette slathered in organic strawberry jam. Emmie had dragged them through an array of tents, coming up with more and more outlandish suggestions for their picnic (Steve looking like he was caught somewhere between being endeared and embarrassed). Then Steve had led them to a small park nearby. It’s a perfect day of course, sunny with clear blue skies and a light breeze teasing through the wildflowers.

Emmie seems to have tired herself out somewhere between running to tents and feasting on their plunders. She’s laying on the blanket on her stomach, flipping through a picture book while kicking her legs idly in the air behind her. Meanwhile, Steve finishes a cookie and groans, stretching out on his back until he’s propped up on his elbows. His long legs trail off the blanket into the grass. “I definitely ate too much,” he announces, tilting his head to look up at Bucky. “Don’t regret a thing though.”

Buck wasn’t prepared for the way Steve’s eyes look in the sun. They’re a clear sky blue, shimmering like a lake in summertime. His lashes are dark brown and long, brushing his cheeks every time he blinks. And worst of all, he’s gazing at Bucky like Bucky’s the only person that matters in the world. 

Bucky finishes his bread and lays down next to Steve. “Same,” he says. “I think we pretty much cleared out that market.”

“They’re probably used to it,” Steve chuckles. “Em and I come here every weekend and have a feast. I always swear I’m not going to buy everything she asks for, and I always fail.”

“It’s my first time to this one,” Bucky admits. “I’ve been checking out different farmer’s markets across LA.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Are you a cook?”

“Amateur,” Bucky shakes his head. “More like just something to fill my time while I figure out what I actually want to do.”

Steve hums in acknowledgment. He gazes a Bucky for a long moment, assessing him. “I think there’s a lot of things you’d be good at, Buck,” he says with kind sincerity.

Bucky’s stomach swoops at the nickname. “It’s not that. I was good at being a soldier, great at it. Now I just want to find something I love, I guess.”

“You’re a vet?”

“Yeah, I enlisted right after high school. Served ten years until I knew I had to move on to something else. Parent’s left me this house in LA, so here I am,” Bucky shrugs. He feels like his life story isn’t particularly inspiring.

“I think that it’s really honorable to serve, especially that long,” Steve says earnestly, running a hand through his golden hair. “I was going to enlist after college, but then this one came along and my plans changed.” He nods toward Emmie. “For the better, though.”

 “You and your wife must be so proud,” Bucky says, heart sinking at the word ‘wife’.

Steve ducks his head. “Nah, I’m not married,” he answers quietly. “Kind of hard to come out as gay when you’re captain of your college’s football team and your girlfriend’s pregnant, but I did eventually. It took me a long time to own up to who I really am. I wish that I had found the courage to do it sooner, because then maybe I wouldn’t have hurt the people I did.” He sighs heavily and stares off into the distance. “Her mom wanted nothing to do with me or Emmie after I came out. Family too. But I couldn’t pretend to be someone I’m not, you know? So I took Emmie and I’ve been raising her on my own ever since. And I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

“I can tell you’re doing great,” Bucky murmurs. “Emmie is wonderful.” He looks down and suddenly realizes he’s been rubbing circles with his thumb on Steve’s wrist while he talks. He quickly pulls his hand away. Steve’s either oblivious or pretends not to notice.

“Not easy to come out when you’re in the army, either,” Bucky admits after a long beat, and Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “It’s mostly why I left. I couldn’t be happy when I was trying to hide who I am every second. Makes you paranoid.”

Steve opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but then shuts it. “I’m glad you understand,” he says eventually. “Not a lot of people do.”

Bucky’s suddenly aware of how close their faces have gotten. Steve is looking right at him and the silence between them feels electric. Steve’s eyes flick down to Bucky’s mouth and then back up. Steve’s lips are cherry red and full, and Bucky can’t help imagining what they’d feel like pressed up against his own. Soft, and tasting like chapstick and strawberries. His mouth would be hot, inviting, and Bucky would run his tongue over those perfect teeth, maybe nip at his plush lips a little. He’d kiss him until Steve groaned, until that beautiful pink flush came back, until he’d tasted every inch of him.

They both move imperceptibly closer, and Bucky can feel the heat of Steve’s breath on his face.

 “Can you do my hair like yours?” Emmie’s voice suddenly cuts through the silence and Steve and Bucky jerk apart. Bucky had forgotten she was even there.

 “What was that, bug?” Steve asks, sitting up. He sounds slightly out of breath. Bucky sits up too.

“I want Bucky to do my hair like his,” she says, pointing at Bucky’s bun. “He’s got pretty hair.”

 “Well that’s up to Bucky,” Steve turns to look at him. “Do you mind? You do have pretty hair, by the way.”

Bucky’s face goes hot. “Well, uh, sure. Just a bun? I can do braids if you want.”

Emmie lights up like Christmas has come early. “You can do _braids_?!” She exclaims. “Daddy doesn’t know how even though I always ask him.” She frowns sternly over at Steve.

Steve throws up his hands in mock frustration. “I’m a hopeless braider. Guess it’s your lucky day, huh kiddo?”

“Yep,” Emmie chirps happily and scoots over in front of Bucky. “Can you do two and put my bows at the ends?” 

“Coming right up,” Bucky smiles and starts combing his fingers gently through her blonde curls. He concentrates on doing the braids right, careful to thread the hair together softly and not pull. It’s been awhile since he did this, not since his little sister was a kid. But his fingers remember the movements easily and he braids two even pigtails on either side of Emmie’s head, clipping her tiny pink bows to the ends.

“There,” he announces when he finishes, turning Emmie around so he can see his work. “You look like a princess,” he winks at her.

She looks excitedly over to Steve. “Do I really, daddy?”

“You are the most beautiful princess in the whole world, sweetheart,” Steve smiles warmly and scoops Emmy up into his arms. “Kiss attack!” he growls and begins peppering Emmie’s face with smacking kisses, as she squeals delightedly in his arms.

“No daddy stop!” she giggles, squirming out of his grasp. “No more kisses!”

Steve crosses his arms and pushes his lips out in an exaggerated pout. “But I didn’t get a kiss,” he complains. Emmie sighs loudly but presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek anyway. “Much better,” Steve grins.

“Thank you Bucky! I’ve always wanted braids” Emmie throws herself at Bucky, wrapping her arms around his neck. He catches her easily and hugs her close. 

“Anytime,” he murmurs, and presses a quick kiss to the top of her head. He glances up at Steve, unsure if he’s crossing a line. But Steve is just gazing over at him holding Emmie with a look of blatant affection on his face. Bucky can’t tell if it’s just a trick of the light, but Steve’s eyes seem slightly too shiny. But then he blinks and it’s gone.

Steve glances at his watch and claps his hands together. “Well, gang, unfortunately I think it’s time for us to pack up.” He stands and dusts grass off his jeans.

“I had fun with you Mr. Bucky,” Emmie says. “I hope you come back again soon.” 

Bucky gives her a final hug and stands up too. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Emmie.”

Emmie starts singing the clean-up song to herself and dumping leftover fruit into the bag. Steve turns to face Bucky. “Thanks so much for hanging out with us. I know she can be a bit much sometimes but she really likes you.”

“She’s great,” Bucky shakes his head. “I’m glad I ran into you guys.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, and a flash of sadness crosses his eyes. “Well, I hope maybe we’ll run into you again.”

Bucky hesitates, then ventures, “I have a phone, you know. If you wanted to call me,” he crooks an eyebrow at Steve, trying not to smile.

Steve looks thrown for a second, eyes as wide as Emmie’s. “Yes!” he bursts out, then blushes. “I mean, yes, I’d like to call you. I just didn’t want to be too forward, you know, take advantage of the situation.”

Bucky bites back a laugh. “Steve Rogers, you are one of a kind.” He takes the phone that Steve hands him and quickly enters his contact info. Then he says goodbye to both of them, shoulders his canvas bag and treks back to his car. He grins quietly to himself as he walks, a deep, warm feeling curling in his chest.

Maybe he could find something here to love after all.

  
* * * *   
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Ahh hello this is my first Stucky fic, I hope you liked it!! (> ^_^ )>
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I am toying with the idea of a sequel if there's interest. <3 
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://notwithouttyou.tumblr.com)


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